


Out of the Dark

by carmenta



Series: Change of Times [2]
Category: Vampire Chronicles - Rice
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-07-01
Updated: 1999-07-01
Packaged: 2017-10-08 02:32:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/71779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carmenta/pseuds/carmenta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The student plans to overthrow the master, who is not even sure anymore if his position is worth fighting for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of the Dark

It was over.

I had lost the game, had been defeated finally. Was lost on my own battlefield. My figure was being taken from the board and placed next to it, without any importance, a useless piece that had fulfilled its purpose and was now replaced. Now only one question remained; would the figure be simply ignored, or would it be broken, crushed to dust?

What happened I could have predicted, should have foreseen, must have known. I had been aware of what was going on, but somehow I had never believed them to actually stand up and do what I had prepared them for. The teacher tries to give his knowledge to the students, but does he ever expect them to use it? I certainly hadn't. And now I would pay the price for being so short-sighted. All I could hope for now was that I had not taught them everything, had not perfected them.

"Quid vultis in cella mea?" I asked them in the usual calm, controlled voice, my face a perfect blank, the mask I was so used to wear in front of them that it had become normal to me. This, I noticed with a certain amount of pleasure, was something they had not learned. Indifference in any situation, even if your life depends on it, is something that needs time to be mastered. Time was what gave the possibility to struggle for perfection, to learn and repeat the lessons. Who rushed would never gain knowledge.

"Use a language everybody understands." My own words, spoken months ago to this creature I would have been overjoyed to meet in a different situation, were thrust back at me. He had certainly learned a lot of the art of words. Now we would see if he could use it as well.

"You should really attempt to master Latin." Add a slightly reprehending undertone, and watch how he reacts.

"What for? It is old-fashioned, and not useful anymore. Like you." Very well done. But he made the mistake of showing his thoughts too soon, he gave away things he could have used later. Quite good, but far from being something that could be called close to perfection. He had never had the patience necessary to really study every aspect of the art of debating.

"Hic sumus, ut tibi vale dicari." Now this was something completely different. She had always been a keen student, and she had learned well. And the progress she had made during the last few months was remarkable. She was showing a lot more interest in the lessons, as if she had finally discovered that what I taught her could be useful. The way she was standing in front of me, next to her lover, her hair matted and coated with dirt and dust, her dress torn, she radiated power. A regal being if ever I saw one. Not even my dear Allesandra had accomplished this state of majesty. She had been a ruler, but in a different way; what Allesandra had achieved through cleverness and diplomacy, Isabella carried out with her charisma. I would have been proud of her if she weren't trying to replace, expel and kill me. But I could certainly say that she had paid attention to what I had taught her. I had prepared her for such situations, had given her the knowledge how to react, how to overthrow. But never had I expected her to actually use it. Theory was a wonderful thing, but when it became reality, it suddenly did not look that pretty and worthwhile anymore.

"So what will you do?" I looked at them inquiringly, as if I were questioning them as I had done during so many lessons. "Will you return to the coven and pretend that this has not happened? Will you try to achieve a pact with the master to participate in the power? Or," I leaned forward, my hands on the table, "will you attempt to kill the master, risking to lose your life if you fail? It is your choice. Choose wisely. Which of the three possibilities do you decide to execute, Isabella?" She smiled me, her lips curling without any humor. The best student I had had for centuries turned against me.

"I will choose the fourth possibility," she stated firmly, and continued as I rose my eyebrows questioningly. "I will try to persuade the _master_," the way she pronounced the title, it seemed an insult, "to leave the coven without a fight."

"An interesting new strategy," I admitted, leaning back in my chair again. "I am waiting for your arguments." She quickly looked at her companion, that handsome French who spoke such horribly accented Italian and Latin. Apparently she had not foreseen this reaction of me. What had she believed I would do, scold her for inventing a new idea? I would have praised her for this if it were not my downfall she was plotting. But with this quick glance she had let me see that she was not prepared for everything, that I could probably fend her off if I was careful enough.

But did I want to?

The idea of leaving the coven was strangely appealing to me. I had not thought of this before, not seriously at least, but now the possibility to leave, to quit this all, was here. I could seize the opportunity, could do something new. Hadn't I began to think during the last few decades that the life as Satan's follower was no more what I wanted? Had I not secretly envied the rogues for the freedom they had? But thinking of abandoning my former life was different from walking out of the door forever.

Jacques was pacing the room, his nervousness visible and distracting. Isabella went at his side and placed a hand on his shoulder, which calmed him again. He looked at her, devotion in his eyes, and moved to lean against the wall at the door, not averting his eyes from her. The French vampire had been integrated in our coven finally, after Amadeo had written that he thought I might enjoy to have such an intelligent and talented young one in my flock. Clever Amadeo, he probably had not been sure how to deal with such an ambitious and overenthusiastic being, and therefore had sent his problem away so others would take care of it. And now Jacques had joined my coven three months ago, and had until now participated in every conspiracy among the group. His influence was rather impressive, and he could easily inspire the others. Combined with Isabella's charisma... Enthusiastic followers were hard to defeat.

"I have an offer for you," Isabella came closer and looked at me from the other side of the desk. "You agree to leave quietly, without informing the coven. They must not know that you are still alive. And in turn we will not come after you for a week."

"So I get seven nights to leave Roman territory?" She nodded slightly.

"If you are still within the borders of the Papal States after that period, you will be treated as a rogue. Certainly you know what that means."

"And what if I don't agree with your plan? Would you risk everything in an attempt to kill me? You cannot be sure that you can win a fight against me." Now she smiled again, and ran a hand through her dusty hair.

"I would not dream of attacking you, there are easier ways to defeat you. Who would not believe your assistant if she says that you have gone mad? The news of that old female vampire in Paris have spread far already, the coven would think that you could not get over the news of her insanity. The flock is ready to believe everything if it is presented to them in a convincing way." An interesting idea, and so simple that I wondered why nobody else had thought of this yet. It appeared that Isabella would indeed be able to force me out of the coven. If she told the others that I had gone mad, they would burn me without thinking twice about it. And I knew that they while they respected and feared me, they liked her, and would turn against me. Authorities are never loved.

"Jacques, leave." I looked at him sternly.

"Why..."

"Because I say so. It is still me who leads this coven." After receiving a confirming nod from Isabella, he turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.

"What do you want?" Isabella asked, a queen who granted a wish to a peasant, and I felt pride to see her like this. Maybe Amadeo had not turned out to be the leader I had wanted him to be - he was too dependent on others to really rule on his own - but Isabella reflected exactly how I imagined a true Master. She was my success, my masterpiece. The end of my time. The old Phoenix goes into the fire, and the young one surrects from the ashes. She would succeed me, and rule the coven, and I knew she was capable of this, maybe even more than I was; she had closer contacts to the group, while I had been forced to distance myself from them. And she knew what she wanted, she had plans already. Her initiative surprised me, I had never believed her to be creative enough to think of a completely new strategy on her own. It appeared that I had underestimated her rather thoroughly; I could not even guess anymore what she would do next.

"I want to know why you let me go. What are your reasons?" I had to know, what if my leaving was only a part of a greater scheme of which I was not aware? Not knowing that you are only a pawn in the game is always dangerous. Know your role, and play it in a way that brings advantages only to yourself.

"It would be foolish to try to kill you." She moved to sit on the stool opposite me, her movements graceful as always. "Murder is permitted by the laws, and though the coven would not mind if you met your end, the person who is responsible for your death would never be respected. Authority can never be based on a murder."

"They would not obey, you are right." I nodded thoughtfully. "Assassins have no honor, and cannot be rulers themselves."

"My point exactly."

"Why did you not send Jacques to do it?" Isabella laughed softly, and leaned back, completely relaxed. Admirably.

"Would you trust him? He is a tool in this, nothing else. Maybe he thinks that he will participate in the power, but he is only my companion, not my partner in this. I can't risk giving him the opportunity to praise himself of killing you, that would interfere with my plans. He is only useful if I need to inspire the coven."

"Do you love him?" She looked at me, her delicate, dirty features clearly mirroring her confusion. I repeated the question, and noticed that her eyes had acquired a coldness that had not been there before. A wound spot, it seemed, maybe this could be useful.

"Love? What is love but a hindrance on the way to power?" Her voice was bitter, I would have to tread carefully if I did not want her to become completely unpredictable. "You were the one who taught me that emotions must be suppressed, that feelings only distract and keep your thoughts from the more important things. Be an egoist, that were your words, I remember you saying them, sitting in this very chair, looking exactly like this. Be an egoist, only care about yourself, don't think about the others if they cannot be used to help you to reach your purpose. Do you remember, Santino?" This was the first time she had not called me by my title but by my name. No more differences between us, I was no longer her superior. "I am egoistic now. I know what I want, and I will not care what happens to the others. Your fate does not concern me."

Her hands were resting calmly in her lap, and saw something I had never noticed in all the years I had known her. On her right hand, the ringfinger, to be exact, covered with dust and dirt, I saw a sparkle of gold or a similar material in the candlelight. Looking closer, I found that she was wearing a ring, a small, simple ring. It looked not very expensive, so she had probably not kept it for its value. What did it mean to her that she had kept it for all this time? She was nearly hundred years old, what memories did this piece of metal hold that it was worth being saved for so long? I realized that I knew nearly nothing of her mortal life, who she had been, what she had been. Not even her full name I knew. Those things had mattered to me in the early years, I had been interested in the background of every new vampire who joined the coven. Their age, their family, their beliefs, all these details I had known. I still remembered them, I knew who they had been. But what were they now but ashes? The few ones who had formed the original coven were all dead, apart from Allesandra and me, and she had gone mad. I was the only one who was left, all the old ones, who I had called brothers, were gone. I was alone, surrounded by children who thought that the origins of the coven were something so long gone that they weren't worth being remembered. But I could still recall the faces, the voices. Sometimes those who had vanished or died long ago were more real to me than those who surrounded me. Their souls were still with me, they did not leave me alone, me, the last of the old group. They would always be here, silently watching me. What would they have done, would they have left quietly, or would they have fought? Shaking my head slightly, I tried to suppress these thoughts. There lay no use in attempting to follow their patterns of thought; I had to decide this on my own, they could not help me. Isabella was looking at me, her face the blank I had taught her to always wear.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked her. "Why do you let me get away?" It was against everything she had learned, she knew that she must not leave witnesses. Never let an old opposer live, he will be behind you when you least suspect it. Wasn't that logical?

"I told you, they would not respect me if I killed..."

"Don't talk such nonsense!" I interrupted her roughly. "We both know that this is not the real reason. You would be very well capable of convincing them that it was not murder. Why? Why!"

"Because killing the leader is the old system!" she was nearly screaming now, this was exciting her greatly. "The archaic way of killing the predecessor! But we have to find new rules and guidelines, we can't stay the same for a thousand years. There must be new ideas, a new structure. Look at the world around you! Don't you see the change that is going on? England has a constitution now, the power of the people in Florence and Venice is being confirmed, the Holy Church is losing her influence. We must take the hints, and change! Despotism can't survive any longer, and neither can religion. Everything is strategy now, theories, thoughts." She calmed step by step, and smoothed her hair back with a trembling hand. "That's why I let you leave. Choose your exile yourself, but leave, and don't interfere with us anymore."

"Do you really think I have been blind to this?" I asked her quietly. "Don't you believe that I have noticed the changes as well?"

"Of course I know that you were aware of them," she answered almost too quickly, as if she had expected this question and already prepared an answer. "But still you were stuck in the old ways, because they were your ways." I opened my mouth to interrupt her, but she rose her hand and silenced me. "Let me finish this before you defend your decisions. The rules you created worked for the covens for more than three centuries, but they have finally reached the point where they become old-fashioned and awkward. We have to change, but if you stay here, it will be impossible."

Smiling, I listened to her words that reminded me of myself. She had the same ideals, wanted to reach the same goals. Some things never seemed to change, there would always be the same types of persons. She was looking at me, waiting for my answer on this, but did I really want to say something? Hadn't I decided already what I would do?

I stood, went to the old trunk in the back of the room, and unlocked it. The lid was heavy to lift even with vampiric power, and maybe some of the younger ones would not have been able to open it. I looked inside, at the carefully sorted objects inside. Sheets of paper that had turned yellow over the years, a few old coins that nobody would accept anymore, moth-eaten clothes, books whose pages were crumbling to dust when I touched them. Time had shown no mercy for my belongings, they had aged while I had remained as I had been when I had stored the things in this trunk. But I did not care about that now; I took out a few small books bound in leather, and blew the dust from the covers. Silently, I came to Isabella's side and handed them to her. She looked at me inquiringly, and I sat down again on my chair.

"My diaries. Maybe they will be useful for you, there were times when I rather wrote my reasoning down than talk to somebody." I leaned back. "I suppose you won't agree with everything I wrote, but you might see some things clearer, and avoid some mistakes I made."

"So you will go?" Leaning forward, she put the books on the desk, and looked at me as if she wanted to read the answer from my face. But she did not try to read my mind.

"Yes. I have been thinking of leaving before, but never wanted to make the final step. Now you leave me no real choice; I suppose I should be grateful that you force me to decide how much the coven means to me. And I have found that it is not worth a fight with you. I will go, as soon as possible. There must have been a lot of changes in the world of mortals, I want to see what has happened while I have been down here serving God. You do realize that there is no God, no?"

"I never thought there could be such a being," she said, surprising me again. This evening revealed more of her personality to me than I had found out about her during the last century. Maybe I should have talked to her in this way more often.

"But if you did not believe in God, what made you stay? Why did you follow the rules?"

"Can't you guess? It is obvious, really. I would have been killed if I did not obey. So why not pretend to believe in chants and sabbats when it means that you are accepted in a group? I would have been on my own if I had rebelled, and so it was easy to decide what I would do. But I believed in the necessity of belief."

Fascinating, truly fascinating. How many of the coven were thinking like this? Did any of the flock still believe in what I had told them? Maybe Isabella was an exception, she could be the only one who had realized that there was no supreme being ruling over our actions. But then again, were the others really that dumb? The coven had firmly believed in God and Satan once, all of the group. I had seen my purpose in doing what I thought would be right, and had claimed to act in the name of God, and had believed that He was the one who had created us. Now I was not sure about a lot of things, but one I knew: there was no God, and there had never been one. And it hurt to know this. It made centuries of my life appear a farce, wasted time. Who cared about this anymore? Maybe I was the only one left who had been clinging to the old beliefs that long, maybe Isabella was right when she said that I could not be the one to change my own rules because I could not see the presence, but the past. Maybe I had been a fool.

She was looking at my diaries now, my precious Isabella, who was making me proud and sad as well. I did not want to leave, but it was time to go, wasn't it? I was old, and she was young, and she knew what to do, how to lead the coven. She was capable. She could do this. And I was no longer needed. Time to go, make room for the new Queen.

"I will leave tonight. I don't want to stay any longer." She gave me a quick glance, surprise mirrored on her face, before she stood and began to pace the room.

"You don't have to rush, I will not have you harmed if you stay for some more time."

"No, it's not because of that. I simply want to go. There's nothing left that could keep me here." The power would be hers, so why should I spend one more hour trying to control and rule the coven when she would be the one to benefit of the outcome, and not me myself? No, I would not waste my energy on this. If she wanted to rule, she would have to do it herself. There was nothing I could gain through staying here any longer.

"Very well, it is your decision. I will not detain you, but are you sure that you aren't rushing into this? Do you have any idea what will expect you when you leave the coven?"

"No!" I gave her a bright smile. "That is what is so wonderfully new! I don't know what will happen, I won't be able to plan anything. Everything will be different, and new, and full of fascination. And the thought of not being bound by any laws anymore is simply divine. That must be what God had in mind for us when he created us. If he exists, that is, but why should I care about that anymore?" Isabella looked at me with a combination of horror and amusement.

"Santino, have you finally lost your mind? You should hear what you have just said, it sounded as if you had gone insane!"

"Oh, but maybe I have, my darling, _ma chere_, wouldn't your beloved Jacques call you that? Come, we have to plan my disappearing, I want the coven to be completely confused! They shall talk of this in the years, the centuries that will come! Never, never must they forget me, and my mysterious disappearance." I felt so good! After so many years I would start anew, would see what life had to offer for me. "Isabella, don't you want to come with me?"

"And give all this up?" she shook her head, and I could see that she was unsure what to do now that I was acting so strangely. "It is my turn now to lead, and I will not let the opportunity pass."

"Whatever you want, Isabella." I turned serious again, and concentrated on the immediate problems. The coven had to be convinced that I was dead, or they would hunt me down faster than I would be able to get out of their reach. But if they thought that Isabella had anything to do with my death, they would not accept her. Our perception of honor was a little twisted sometimes, but murdering one of our kind was strictly forbidden, especially if the victim was the coven master. It would be necessary to fool them, to confuse them so they did not know what exactly had happened.

I reached out for Isabella's hand, the first time I had ever touched her. She was warm, had hunted tonight, and her palm was smooth and dry. No blood sweat. Admirable control of herself.

"What do you want?" She turned to face me, and drew her hand back.

"A marvelous ending, Isabella, that's all I ask of you. I want to disappear mysteriously, and in a hundred years I will listen to the tales of my vanishing, and laugh at the short-sightedness and stupidity of those who did not realize what took place."


End file.
